


safe in your arms

by diazsbuckaroo



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Caring Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz-centric (9-1-1 TV), M/M, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Protective Evan "Buck" Buckley, non canon relationship, upset Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diazsbuckaroo/pseuds/diazsbuckaroo
Summary: based on the eddie’s own struggles post tsunami & buck comforts him in order to help.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 97





	safe in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> a soft buddie fic after eddie goes to therapy and stops fighting. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!🤍

Eddie’s fine. 

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself, and everyone around him. 

If Bobby asks, he’s fine. If Hen or Chim asks, he’s fine. If  _ Christopher _ asks, he’ll lie even more and say he’s fantastic. He can’t look weak, he doesn’t want to look weak for the one little person that needs him most of all. 

Truth be told, he’s not. And even a small part of him knows that, yet he’s so unwilling to express it and make it true. 

If anything, he doesn’t have time to worry about his trauma when he has to help the city of Los Angeles with theirs everyday, and he had his hands full dealing with Buck’s crazy lawsuit drama. 

Not to mention everything is  _ post _ a freaking  _ tsunami _ , and his wife’s death. 

Also seeing his best friend be crushed by a ladder truck and then going through a tsunami with Chris did  _ not _ help the situation. 

But he’s fine. At the job he’s fine. At home with Chris he’s fine. Surrounded by his co-workers and family he’s fine. 

It’s when he’s alone, when he has a chance to be alone with himself and own thoughts he’s not. 

—————

Things with Buck and him finally got back on solid ground, where the lawsuit BS was fully behind them and they could move on. Thank god.

Sure, that releases some of the triggers that weight on his back, yet he doesn’t feel any lighter. 

He got busted for fighting, and now because his plan A coping method is ruined, he’s seeing a therapist. Not plan B, nor C, but Z. Therapy was the last thing he wanted. Only himself and Bobby (Frank too, of course) know Eddie’s in therapy. 

He wants to tell Buck, he truly does. But he can’t. Just too prideful, he supposes.

Tonight. Christopher’s sleeping over at abuela’s because she swears Eddie never drops him off anymore, and she wants to see her grandson. Admittedly, Eddie wants the peace and quiet. 

He’s downed 4 beers and a half a box of pizza already in an attempt to make him feel…...less horrible mentally. None of it helps. 

The TV’s not on, no music or even a single social media app open on his phone, he’s just sitting on his couch, in the silence that fills his house like dead weight. 

His thumb plays with the corner of the beer bottle label that is peeling up, getting lost in his  _ depressing _ thoughts. 

_ Why do I feel this way? _

_ Will I ever get better? _

_ I hate feeling like this everyday, I put on a stupid fake smile for the world and then come home to beat myself mentally to shit.  _

_ God I hate it.  _

_ I’m not good enough for Chris.  _

_ I’m not good enough for myself. _

Realizing the path his brain’s taking him, he knows he needs to talk. It’s way past office hours for Frank, and the last thing he wants to do is call Bobby, his aunt or abuela admitting he’s having a mental break. 

No, he knows  _ exactly _ who he needs to call. 

Buck. 

——————

“Buck….” 

“Ed-Eddie? It’s late, what’s up?” 

“I need to talk.” 

“‘Bout what?”

“Myself. I-I-I’m not doing so well…….. _ mentally.  _ I need someone.”

“Eddie, wh-what do you mean? You need me to come over?” 

“I don’t know, Buck. I just don’t know anymore….”

“What is-what’s that supposed to mean now? Look Eddie I’m coming over. Right now.”

“It’s late, you don’t have to, please…”

“Don’t you do that to me, Diaz. Time are just numbers- you need me, I’m on my way.” 

—————-

Buck’s never been more afraid since Maddie was kidnapped a year and a half ago. The tsunami he was  _ terrified _ , in its own category, which is maybe how Buck feels right about now. 

Yeah, it’s 12:31 am, and he  _ was _ fast asleep. He guesses working in a firehouse trains you to get broken sleep that’s awakened by the sound of bells or ringing. He should be tired out of his mind right about now, but he’s not. Again, another firehouse habit- early morning adrenaline rushes. 

But he’s told every single one of his friends and family that if they ever need help, day or night, mentally or physically, to just call. And he’d be there. 

Buck’s counting whatever blessings he can find at the moment since Eddie did just that. 

He sounded so…..hopeless. Depleted. Unmotivated. Robotic. So not Eddie Diaz like. The strange pauses after he spoke lingered in his brain, like on autoplay. 

When he arrives at the Diaz household he uses his key (instead of foot) to let himself in. It’s so….eery, he hates it. 

“Eddie? Diaz!” He medium loud shouts. The empty beer bottles tipped on their sides on the table can’t be a good sign. 

It’s nothing but happiness that rushes across Buck’s face when he finds Eddie, just sleeping, slumped on the couch. 

“Eds.” He gently shakes, witnessing Eddie flutter his eyes open slowly. He can tell he’s having a hard time focusing, so Buck crouches down on the floor next to his head where their eyes meet levely. 

“Buck…..I didn’t think you’d come.” Eddie sits up, running a tired hand down his face and across his eyes. He gives Buck enough room to squeeze in next to him on the couch, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders to draw him into his chest as they sit. 

“What’s up, Eddie. I know you’re not okay, so don’t even try.” 

“I don’t know Buck, I-I-I just feel so lost.” 

Buck nods. Without more explanation, he’s not 100% sure what Eddie means. 

“I’ve been lost since Shannon died. Then kinda had to shove it away to be there for Chris, then your accident happened and I- just forgot about it. The tsunami triggered it all again. Chris having the nightmares about Shannon and just my feeling of not being enough…..they’re eating me alive.” 

“You know that’s not true, right. You saying you’re not enough. You are, Eddie. More than you’ll ever know. To me, to Chris, to the 118, to-“ 

“I wasn’t enough for...for Shannon!” He cries out louder. “Okay! Shannon, she wanted to divorce me right before she died. She wanted to leave again after I let her back into our lives.” Eddie pulls himself out of Buck’s reach, turning so they can talk face to face. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” Buck soothed. 

“Now I fear I’m not enough for Chris. He’ll never have his mother again, it’s just me, and half the time I’m not even there for him. And I don’t know if I can provide everything he needs from both parents from just me, Buck. That’s what I’m most afraid of. That I can’t be enough for my own kid.” 

He swallows. “But I just had too much else going on to realize it. Other people needed me so I disregarded it.” 

“By ‘too much else’ you mean the lawsuit, right?” Buck swallowed a big lump in his throat unnervingly.  
  


“Yeah, yeah. Between work and…. _ everything,  _ I chose to push it away. I was pissed at you, pissed at myself, pissed at Shannon…..I started fighting. Now I’m at therapy.” 

“Therapy? I didn’t know.” 

“Yeah. Obviously it’s not working or else I wouldn’t be doing this at 1 am.” He facetiously chuckled, stopping a tear that must've fallen and rolled down his cheek. 

“Therapy takes time, Eddie. And you’ve been holding back so many of these thoughts you’re bound to explode one of these days. It’s okay.” 

“No, it‘s-it’s not. I feel like a….”

“Failure?” Eddie nods as Buck interrupts. “You feel like a failure for having feelings….yeah, I used to think that way too. Buck 1.0 wasn’t a feelings guy. Look, everyone has them and you gotta be transparent with them. You can be strong for your son and feel emotions publicly at the same time, it’s the best compromise. Or else you have this, a breakdown. The dams open and sometimes there’s no way to close them, I know. You’re not any less of a man or a father because of it, Eddie.” 

“It’s gonna take some time to get over.”

“It always does.” Buck stops in thought for a moment. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own crises that I didn’t realize how much help you need right now, Eddie. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” 

“You’re here now. Thank you.” Eddie places his hand on Buck’s knee, but Buck does one better. He scoots back closer near him, taking him into a cuddle hug again. 

He runs his finger across Eddie’s cheek to sop up the extra tears still sneakishly leaving his eyes, and Eddie nussles his head closer into the indent between Buck’s collarbone and pec, a spot he’s been wishing to know what it feels like.

Here, he feels….safe.   
  


Comfortable.

Loved. 

Valued. 

Calm. 

He’s okay. 

In Buck’s arms, he feels _happy_.   
  


“Thank you.” He whispers.

  
  
  



End file.
